


Farmville

by cognomen



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Domesticity, M/M, One Shot, farming au, gratuitous farming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-13
Updated: 2018-04-13
Packaged: 2019-04-22 05:18:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14301615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cognomen/pseuds/cognomen
Summary: “What kind of visit is this, exactly?” Poe demands, when he finds his father cleaning the kitchen cabinets from the inside.“Just a vacation,” Kes’ feet answer, his voice muffled. He’s laying down with his top half plunged into the lower cabinet where they keep the roasting pans that only come out for holidays.Poe picks up the pans themselves from where they’re stacked on the floor and starts to set them on the counter so they won’t get kicked around.“No!” Kes barks. “Put them in the sink, the countertops are soaking!”





	Farmville

**Author's Note:**

  * For [musamihi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/musamihi/gifts).



“What kind of visit _is_ this, exactly?” Poe demands, when he finds his father cleaning the kitchen cabinets from the inside.

“Just a vacation,” Kes’ feet answer, his voice muffled. He’s laying down with his top half plunged into the lower cabinet where they keep the roasting pans that only come out for holidays.

Poe picks up the pans themselves from where they’re stacked on the floor and starts to set them on the counter so they won’t get kicked around.

“No!” Kes barks. “Put them in the sink, the countertops are soaking!”

“Dad,” Poe says, complying with his wishes and running hot water over the dusty pots that no one’s going to use again until the harvest feast after the end of the growing season. “This is a bit much, isn’t it? Even for a princess.”

“When was the last time these were cleaned out?” Kes asks, still scrubbing something.

“I don’t think Leia Organa is going to conduct a detailed field inspection of our kitchen on her vacation,” Poe grumbles, scrubbing the pots out with the dish brush, helping even as he questions the reason for doing it. “ _Especially_ on her vacation.”

He sets the first pan in the dish drainer, and starts working on the next.

“General Solo is coming too,” Kes says, emerging from the dusty cabinet space.

“Huh,” Poe says. He makes it a point to not get too involved in the galaxy and keep his feet on the ground instead. “Is he officially not missing again?”

Kes moves to the next cabinet, unloading a few more pots and pans for Poe to wash. “Seems like. So it’ll be the whole family.”

“Are they bringing their kid?” Sounds like drama to Poe, and a lot of pressure. He doubts they’ll notice their surroundings at all. Poe makes a note to make sure Kes doesn’t go overboard. Well, any more overboard.

“Their son, yes,” Kes says, distracted by scrubbing.

-

It doesn’t quite sweep in and take over their whole lives, but it’s close. Leia is not bigger than life, but Poe is immediately as fond of her as his mother always said he’d be.

When she takes his hands in both of hers and looks up at him warmly, he almost regrets that he hasn’t been swept up by the galaxy outside of his farm and all the wonders in it.

“You look just like her,” Leia says, looking at a memory and it leaves Poe feeling warm, close to Shara Bey again for a moment, which was of course why he’d never left the farm in the first place.

“I want you to meet our son,” Leia continues, smiling at Poe and Kes.

She introduces a man older than Poe expects, about his age, actually. He’s not sure why he expected an actual child, but his visions of entertaining a youth with the farm animals or heavy equipment vanish.

Instead, Ben Solo is a longfaced combination of both his parents, clean-shaven and serious. Well dressed and he looks just a little beleaguered as if the notion of a farm is so far from his experience that he can’t figure out what to do with himself.

Poe lets him engulf his hand for a shake.

“Welcome to Yavin,” Poe says, with a shrug and a smile. _Take it or leave it._

-

Even if several of the most important people in the galaxy are visiting, the farm chores need to be done. Poe embraces the simplicity of it, how closely he works with the land, and of course, it keeps him with Kes who is his whole family.

However, it surprises him to find Ben already—or still—awake and sitting on the long orchard wall with a cup of caf. Watching the jungle beyond the neat rows of Koyo fruit trees. It looks so thoughtful and isolated that Poe feels drawn to try and reach out to his guest.

“Good morning,” he says, pulling himself up onto the fence nearby.

Ben turns a sly, brown-eyed look in his direction. “Is it?”

Poe shrugs. Something about the relationship, barely hours old is comfortable. As if they shook hands and agreed to be honest with each other.

“I couldn’t sleep,” Ben says, with a yawn. The morning air is already warm enough that his cup barely steams. “It’s too quiet.”

Poe has never particularly noticed the quiet, but he likens the emotions Ben must be feeling to the ones he feels when he goes offworld or into the city. The difference in background noise caught at your attention.

“Give it about ten minutes,” Poe says. “The birds wake up. If you want real noise, I can sit here beside you that long so the nerfs and farm horses don’t get fed on schedule.”

As if on cue, a high whickering groan answers from the barn, and Poe bets they’ve heard his voice so he’s really in for it if he’s late.

Ben smiles, and it’s something sad and a little distant. Poe knows he’s off the mark, but can’t guess how, and it doesn’t seem to bother Ben too much.

“I wouldn’t want to disturb the routine,” Ben says, finishing his caf.

By the time Poe’s done feeding the animals—not many, but enough to keep the resting fields grazed when they’re off rotation and generate manure and wool and all the attendant byproducts—the jungle birds are singing and insects are shrilling and humming, and Ben has left the fence.

Poe pulls down one of the early spring Koyo fruits and eats it unripe and sour, considering the picture the Organa-Solo family makes against his own, almost matching the voids.

-

They don’t orbit so much as collide occasionally over the course of the next few days. Some of it is intentional.

“I can’t convince your father that he’s done enough cooking and cleaning for us,” Ben confides in Poe when he can catch him after a particularly massive dinner. “My mother is concerned about him over-exerting himself.”

Poe laughs a little. “We don’t have company very often. He doesn’t get to fuss over me very much anymore, either. I think he’s using this as an outlet, but I’m trying to get him to ease up.”

With the secret communications delivered between their families, Ben pauses. Poe is drawn to something in him.

“Are your parents alright?” Poe circles the real issue politely, but Ben snorts crudely in answer.

“Every so often they try to be,” he says. “Which I’ve come to believe _is_ alright, as far as they’ve convinced themselves.”

Ben’s shrug is a little too performative to suggest he’s as comfortable with it as he seems. “They always think they can find something new in the past.”

Poe makes a ‘wait here’ gesture, then pulls two bottles of hard koyo cider from the cold cellar under the kitchen floor, and beckons Poe along with him onto the dark privacy of the back deck.

“You miss the city?” Poe asks him. “Must cover up the sounds of fighting.”

“It’s not just the noise,” Ben takes a long drink, watching Poe in the faint illumination that spills out of the house behind them. “The Force is quiet here, too. At night, they lay in the same bed, miles apart, and I—”

Ben looks away at last.

Poe is surprised by the mention of the Force, though of course, Ben’s uncle is Luke Skywalker, holding his own out there with his school on the dim edges of the outer rim. He’s always thought of it like a distant thing; a domain of the Jedi and untouchable.

Ben speaks about it like it’s everywhere.

“You want a good distraction?” Poe offers, maybe a little recklessly. Something in his tone attracts Ben’s attention sharply back to him, with a glint and hunger in his eyes that means Poe isn’t off the mark anymore.

-

Kes catches him retrieving a couple of towels and two more ciders, with a sort of parental attunement to when Poe is about to do something naughty that he’s always had.

“You kids okay?” he asks, putting all the dishes from lunch away carefully, even though he’ll only be taking them all out again in a few hours.

“We’re fine,” Poe says, apparently too quickly because Kes catches him by the arm as he goes by.

“What are you up to, son-of-mine?”

“Skinny dipping.”

“ _Mijo._ ”

Poe grins at him. “We’re adults, Papa. It’ll be fine.”

“What if someone sees you?”

“That’s sort of the point,” Poe tells his father’s deepening frown. “Besides, if I haven’t scandalized the neighbors by now, I doubt a little night swimming will make a difference.”

He leans in to kiss his dad on the cheek like he always does when he wants to get away with something.

“I didn’t mean the _neighbors_ ,” Kes grumbles, but he lets Poe go, disappearing back into the house to keep his guests entertained.

Poe joins Ben out at the pond. Ben’s already in the water, and Poe finds that a little unexpected as he pulls his shoes off on the dock, and tosses the towels down next to the pile of clothes. “I thought I’d have to talk you into it.”

“Why?” Ben wonders, lanky, muscled body cutting through the water almost effortlessly until he approaches the edge of the dock and watches Poe undress with intensely interested eyes.

“Most city-slickers are a little hesitant about swimming in a farm pond,” Poe says.

“I don’t think I qualify,” Ben says. “I don’t live in the city. We’re in motion so much, I don’t really live anywhere. Besides, you know my mother. I endured lots of strange customs before I even learned to walk.”

There’s a hollow echo to the way Ben talks about his childhood that’s as sad and distant as his eyes.

“Is this just another strange custom?” Poe refuses to be embarrassed by Ben’s eyes on him as he takes off his pants.

“Only if you make a habit of it,” Ben says, before Poe hurls himself over his head and into the water with a splash.

For a time, they both enjoy the cool water, as night insects thrum in the air, before they eventually come to rest sitting in the shallow water.

“It’s less quiet than it seems on the surface,” Ben says, when they’re both done splashing each other. There’s moonlight above them, and the clean sandy bottom of the pond under their hands.

“Bugs, birds,” Poe agrees. “In the summer, frogs.”

“Is this your whole plan?” Ben asks, reaching out under the water, running his hand up Poe’s thigh. “The birds and the bees?”

“Sure. That’s better than wampas and tauntauns, isn’t it?” Poe asks, easing his hand over Ben’s. “Your parents aren’t gonna hold this against me, right?”

Ben laughs, letting Poe guide his hand to where he wants it. “What are we, twelve? No, even if they notice. I doubt they’ll care.”

“My dad might.”

“Is that an issue?”

“Only if we keep talking about my parents while you do that.”

Ben makes a thoughtful noise, giving Poe’s cock an encouraging squeeze. “You started it.”

Poe rolls his hips up to push his cock through Ben’s warm grip and the contrasting cool water. “And I intend to finish it.”

-

They make it to Poe’s bed later, shushing each other as they stumble up the stairs with their hands all over each other and tumble down still still wet onto the mattress.

“How do you want this?” Poe gasps against Ben’s mouth, surprised by how desperate he sounds, by who he is in this instant.

“Is that a carte blanche offer?” Ben asks, pushing down on Poe and rocking their bodies together.

“A what?”

“Nevermind,” Ben says, and Poe can almost read his amused-tolerant thoughts, like he’s won some internal wager with himself.

It irritates Poe a little, makes him feel like a farmboy, as if that were a dirty word, but Ben smooths it over by fixing his mouth low on Poe’s belly and sucking until there’s sure to be a mark. Then he moves just a little further down and applies his clever, sullen mouth to Poe’s cock and Poe couldn’t care less what Ben thinks of him after that.

Ben has the trick of it, of not doing anything halfway, just the right pressure with his tongue and how confident he is of where he’s going to touch Poe with it leaves his thoughts lumping up into a tangle around his pleasure. It runs a powerline down along his spine that channels current from Ben’s mouth to his brain. Poe grunts and shifts and listens to the sounds his own voice is making as if from a distance.

He’s merciless, and Poe loves him a little for it, plunging into orgasm with the same thrill flying his mother’s A-Wing used to give him. It leaves him sprawled and panting, pulling Ben’s hair when he catches him spitting the results into Poe’s blankets as politely as the gesture allows.

“More?” Ben wonders playfully, leaning over Poe’s chest.

“Yeah, more,” Poe says, shoving Ben’s lanky, reluctant body over and pressing him on his back into the mattress now. He hooks his hand into the bedside table and has to dig around a little until he comes up with what he needs.

Poe doesn’t think about what that means for his personal life; the scraps he keeps for himself around obligations and family ties. On most days, he doesn’t have time to miss it.

Then it bubbles up every now and again, and bursts into something like this. Before he gets any further down that path of thought—Ben is watching him with a fascination that feels a little too much like he’s more involved than physically—Poe rolls the condom onto his cock and gives him a good squeeze to distract Ben while he slicks him up.

Ben helps, taking the bottle when Poe sets it down and reaching behind Poe to help work him open as he sits over Ben’s hips. He tries to take it slow, and Poe refuses to let him, pushing back until Ben’s fingers are deep, and then shifting his hips to arrange himself more pointedly.

“Impatient,” Ben says, as Poe covers his hand to pull it away.

“Aren’t you?” Poe says, guiding Ben’s long, slender cock into place before he starts to push onto it.

It steals any reply Ben might have, and then it’s Poe’s turn feel smug as sensation overtakes logic. It’s a stretch and a burn and Poe’s pushing his body to take it, but it’s so satisfying even if he’s going to feel it tomorrow. It’s worth it to start riding Ben right away, pushing and taking what he wants. Ben’s thumbs dig in over his hips, bending Poe’s body just a little, smoothing things out as he thrusts up and it can’t surely take as long as it feels like, but it builds and shifts and slides between them until Ben shoves up with a growl, driving himself deep and  holding Poe squirming while he empties himself out.

They sink down together in the aftermath, shifting to find as pace on the bed that’s comfortable without being sticky, and Poe can still smell the pond-water in Ben’s drying hair as they drift off.

-

In the morning he wakes late and tangled up in Ben’s limbs and the wreckage of his bed sheets. Ben sleeps like a restless animal, and he’s spent the whole night turning over and over as if he’s uncomfortable without ever waking up. Poe had eventually pinned him flat, after he’d stolen all the blankets.

Still, Poe wakes up slowly, with a pleasant ache in his body. Ben wakes shortly thereafter, his expression softer while he sleeps. Poe watches the dreams recede slowly from Ben’s features, and focus returns to him.

“Good morning,” Poe says.

“Is it? I think we left our clothes at the lake,” Ben says, lifting a hand to rub sleep from his eyes.

Poe thinks he’s right. They’d come in with towels, and in no mood to remember details. “I have a robe so you can make it to your room.”

Ben makes a thoughtful, resigned noise, and pats Poe’s shoulder with an absent gesture. Neither makes any move to get up.

“What would you do, if you weren’t a farmer?” Ben asks, after a minute. “Have you ever thought about it?”

“Sure,” Poe says. “What would you do if you weren’t—what was it you said it was you did again?”

“No need to get bristly,” Ben says, making a soothing motion against Poe’s back. “I’m an ambassador, by the way. I haven’t thought about what I would do otherwise before, but I’m starting to warm up to the idea of farming.”

“That’s good,” Poe says, giving Ben a pat before he finally gets up. “You can help me catch up with the chores.”

-

“Dad,” Poe protests, finding Kes cleaning the guest bathroom yet again. “They’ve left. You can relax.”

“Who says I’m not relaxed?” Kes calls back, scrubbing the tiles in the backsplash of the refresher.

Poe leans in the doorway. “You did what you could, you know. The trouble between Han and Leia isn’t just because of our run-down bathrooms.”

Kes turns around and just looks at Poe, his frustration with Poe’s insight evident on his features.

“They aren’t _that_ run-down,” Poe continues. “Besides, even when things are tense between them, I think they still care.”

“Of course they do,” Kes says. “And so do I, which is why I was hoping that this could all go smooth.”

“I think it did,” Poe says.

Kes looks expectantly at him, and then seems to realize what Poe’s talking about. He sighs, longsufferingly. “Is this about what I think it is?”

“I invited Ben back at the end of summer,” Poe reveals, giving an answering grin to Kes’ frown. “I figured since we already scrubbed the inside of the cabinets, we might as well entertain guests a little more often.”

“ _Mijo_ ,” Kes starts.

“Just a vacation, Papa,” Poe says, “don’t worry about it.”

-

THE END

  



End file.
